Chuck

After the soul-crushing disaster that was Marcus, my psyche needed a month or so to repair itself. When I decided that my skin was thick enough to again dip my feet into the online dating pool, I went out of my way to make sure that my first candidate was going to be nice and safe with only a slight chance of being a total jerk. Chuck, a single dad that was a little older than me and from the Midwest, seemed like the type of guy who wouldn’t do mean things like surprise me with emails itemizing everything that was wrong with me. Chuck did end up giving me what is perhaps the biggest surprise in my online dating career but he was really, really nice about it.

The first email that I got from Chuck was very funny, harmless and kind. He worked in a management position for the largest technology company in Seattle and lived in one of the outlying suburbs. He had a 9 year-old son from a previous marriage that had ended over five years ago. He was tall, fairly cute and could put together complete and pretty entertaining emails. And he seemed really nice. I didn’t sense one bit of sarcasm or mean-spiritedness, which, after the caustic Marcus, seemed like a pleasant change of pace. Safe, I was going to be safe, so I agreed to a meeting at a local wine bar with Chuck for the following week.

Chuck was waiting at the bar when I arrived and my first impression was that he was really, really not my idea of handsome. He was…pleasant looking but just pretty much the opposite of what I normally found attractive. My judgment had proved to be lacking, though, recently so I sat down and decided to give Chuck a fair shake.

He was pleasant, really pleasant and kind of really, really boring. The conversation struggled pretty badly at first but, if there is one thing that internet dating has given me, it is the skill to be able to talk to people that bear striking resemblances to rocks. Chuck did open up and, as he let loose and started to joke around, I found myself liking him more. It could have had something to do with the wine we were consuming but, when Chuck asked if he could pick me up that weekend and take me to dinner, I didn’t find myself thinking it was such a horrible idea. I can’t say that he was wowing me exactly but I didn’t think seeing him again would be torture, either. With that ringing endorsement, the date was set.

Chuck looked pretty nice when he arrived at the front door of my condo but, in a once again sober state, I was now really quite confident that I did not find him attractive, not even the littlest bit. Crap, crap, crap. Was it too late to change our dinner plans? Yes, it was. I vowed I could make it through an Italian dinner with a nice guy even if it killed me. We had a pleasant dinner and the conversation was fine but it was like we were just friends or acquaintances – there seemed to be absolutely no spark between us and I kind of got the feeling that Chuck felt the exact same way. That is why I was surprised and shocked when, as he drove me home, he asked if he could come in my place for one more glass of wine. He had an extra bottle in his back seat and everything.

It says something about Chuck that I was absolutely not at all threatened or nervous about letting him into my condo. My fear was not that he was going to chop me into pieces but rather that he was going to try a romantic play which was absolutely not something I was interested in. I was truthfully kind of surprised that he was even interested in making a move. He seemed about as excited about me as I was about him. But what was I supposed to say? He had just bought me dinner, he was as scary as toast and one more glass of wine would be fine before I sent him on his way, this time for good.

We got into my condo and I pulled out some glasses and found the wine opener for Chuck. He started to open the bottle and I excused myself to use the restroom. When I returned, I headed into the kitchen and Chuck was gone. My place was tiny so, if he wasn’t there and he hadn’t just up and darted out of the condo altogether, the only other place he could be was in the bedroom. Oh, no. Oh, NO! I went into the bedroom and, yep, I had found him. Chuck was posed on my bed, completely buck naked, and holding his glass of Cabernet. “You told me to make myself comfortable, Kate, and well, I did.” It looked like I really was going to need another glass of wine.

I was so shocked that I had a hard time not showing it on my face and Chuck quickly realized the error of his ways. Even though this guy was quite possibly breaking all kinds of rules of dating etiquette – we had not even kissed! – I felt really, really bad for him. He had put himself out there, so to speak, and that took a lot of courage. But, sympathy aside, sharing a glass of wine with someone you are not interested in is one thing but it is *quite* another if they don’t have any clothes on, even if they are incredibly nice. It was time to put an end to this evening. I am a kind and polite girl but I am not that kind and polite.

Chuck recovered quite well, actually, and, after he put back on all of his clothes, we finished our glasses of wine, in the *kitchen*. I can’t say it was the most comfortable of times but it wasn’t awful, either. Chuck did have some skills and personality after all. He corked up his bottle, I walked him out to his car, he gave me an awkward hug and off he went. As he drove away I couldn’t help but laugh. Half an hour ago that guy had been naked on my BED! What the hell? How did this stuff happen to me? Even though things had ended a bit, uh, abruptly, Chuck had surprisingly restored my faith in online dating. Guys sending me rude and awful emails or lounging in their birthday suit in my condo? No problem. I could handle that. This was as bad as it could get, right? This had to be the bottom of the dating barrel, right? Right???